


Prompts

by lovelyair



Category: Stitchers (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 08:48:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5579071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelyair/pseuds/lovelyair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of fluffy prompts</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Glasses

The only person who ever knocked on his door this late at night was her. And lately, she had just taken to walking in. So he was surprised when he heard excessive knocking on his front door. He swung the door open to face Camille. Who had her fist in the ready position to knock once more. "Ohhhh my god." came her breathy cough, "is that what you really look like?"   
He furrowed his brows, "what?" He asked, cocking his head."Do you let Kirsten see you like that?" She shoved past him in to the apartment. And rested her hands on her hips. "Camille, what do you want? It's almost 2 am."

"I'm sorry," she smiled, hanging her jacket next to the door, "I can't take you seriously right now. Just, that whole package." Her hand waved up and down, taking in a mental study. He followed her hand as she moved it, studying himself.

He shrugged, still not understanding. He slumped his shoulders and felt his lips slide in to a thin line. "What. Do. You. Want?" He snapped.

Camille cocked her head, "well, there's no reason to be snappy." her tune changed suddenly, her smile faded and she found herself making her way towards his couch. Plopping down on it and crossing her legs.   
"Please." Cameron said faking his enthusiasm, "sit down."

Camille patted the seat next to her, "she knows." she said with seriousness.   
The realization of those two words clicked across his face and his eyes grew wide, "you're sure?" he asked, taking the seat next to her.

"Oh yeah," she nodded, "I'm surprised I beat her over here honestly. She's just _so good at figuring stuff out_. It's so annoying."  
"I'm screwed," he collapsed his head in his hands. "What am I going to do?"

They sat in silence for a few moments before Camille stood up, she smiled and he heard her float across the hardwood floors, and he lifted his head out of his hands to turn his head and look back at her, "I tell you what you're going to do." She said "You're going to take her out, and you're going to propose to her, and she's going to say yes. But for the _love_ of God. Please, take off those glasses first."


	2. Milkshakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camsten + Milkshakes

"Do you eat anything normal?" Kirsten asked as she looked up at the plate he had just pushed in front of her. 

"This...this is normal." He signaled with his hand.   
She looked down at the plate of food. None of it was recognizable. At least, not to anyone who ate normal food.   
"Umm, what is it?" She looked up at him, a questioning glance on her face. Her brows furrowed.   
He sighed, "it's duck with a rhubarb-cherry glaze." His tone was flat. He rested his hands against the island counter in his kitchen.   
"Oh, well, in that case…" she trailed off. Sarcasm glossing over her words.   
"I thought I would make you something to thank you for coming over to watch Doctor Who with me." He dipped his head, "but you don't have to eat it if you don't want to."

She saw his eyes, and she thought she recognized sadness in them. So she picked up the fork and she poked at the duck. It squished around on her plate. The pit of her stomach dropping with disgust. But, she would do this. For him. He had spent so much time making this for her. "Okay." she said, and he perked up, "but I'm making dessert."   
He smiled, a bright smile that covered ear-to-ear. "deal." he said as he cut in to his own dish.

When she went for the freezer a little while later, he narrowed his eyes.  
"Whatcha doin?" he asked as he sat himself on the couch, preparing to spend the rest of the night immersed in the world of The Doctor.   
"I'm making you dessert." she said matter-of-factly.   
He watched her, seeing how seamlessly she made her way through his kitchen. She knew where every spoon, glass, and straw was. It made him ache for something more domestic with her. But those dreams were put aside she made her way out of the kitchen and plopped down next to him, handing him a glass. "You made me a milkshake?" He looked at the drink and then back up at her.   
"Yes. Something normal." Her eyes turned toward the television.   
He sighed, as she pulled her feet up under her and snuggled closer to him. Taking a sip of his milkshake as they began watching the show. "Hey, these are pretty good." He was surprised. The chocolate ice cream blended with the milk perfectly. She looked up at him before resting her head on his shoulder, "of course they are."   
He smiled to himself as he turned back to the TV. Maybe normality wasn't such a bad thing at all. 


	3. Window Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camsten + Window Shopping.   
> Winter

"Why do you do this?" He asked as he pulled his jacket closer to his body. It was midnight, of course. "Why do you drag me out of my nice warm apartment in the middle of December to walk the cold streets of L.A?"

She shrugged, her jacket flipping open in the wind that brushed against the city. Seeming unbothered from the coldness brought on by the settling winter.   
"I told you- you didn't have to come." She looked over at him, her lips pulled slightly in to a smile.   
"Yeah, well, I wasn't going to let you come out here alone." He walked forward, noticing that she wasn't next to him. He stopped and spun on his heel. Watching her as she sighed in to a window display. He took a few steps until he was by her side, looking in to the same window. It was a random children's store. With Christmas displays covering every inch. Big, shiny, expensive toys hung in the window with a small tree lit up in the center. A robotic Santa was displayed in the corner, lights all around him as one of his arms moved up and down. He could see the reflection of lights in her eyes. Could see the wonder in her face.   
"You okay, cupcake?" he asked her casually, but there was deep meaning behind it. And he knew she picked up on it. "When I was growing up, Ed did his best to help me feel the wonder and excitement of Christmas. He tried. But there was just something I couldn't get over." Cameron studied her as she looked at him, "my parents were gone and every Christmas I wished for them to come back. Everyone has family on Christmas."

He sighed, his heart cracking apart underneath his jacket. This is why she had dragged him out of his apartment in the middle of winter. Christmas was next week. She was lonely and sad. He thought about a smaller version of herself, sitting at the window every Christmas eve, looking out hoping that a taxi would pull up and her father would get out. "Kirsten...I'm sorry."  
She sighed, watching the lights with such intensity. He felt her hand slide in to his. "Ed did his best."

A light bulb clicked in him suddenly, "come with me to my parents on Christmas."  
Her eyes narrowed, as if she couldn't quite understand his language. "I couldn't intrude."   
He shook his head, "you won't be. I wouldn't be inviting you if I didn't want you to come. Besides, it will give my sister someone to talk to besides her dog." he chuckled to himself. She rocked back and forth on her heels for a few moments before nodding. Turning her head towards him. "Okay." She said.   
He nodded in return, and she brushed passed him. A bounce in her step, never letting go of his hand. They spent the next hour looking in every display window in the metro L.A. area. And afterwards, he bought both of them hot chocolate. Glad that she had dragged him out for this. She might not be family now, but he hoped one day she would be. 


	4. Masquerade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camsten

"What do you mean, _you've never been to Prom?_ " Camille nearly choked on her tea as she looked at Kirsten.  
"It just wasn't something I was interested in." She shrugged.  
"There's nothing dramatic about it Camille, so stop making it in to something it's not."  
Camille stopped, her mouth open and ready to spit back fire when Linus and Cameron walked in to the break room.  
She took the opportunity to corner them.  
"You guys went to Prom, right?" Unaware of the conversation and feeling caught off guard, the boys looked between each other before looking back at the girls. "Yeahhhh.…" Cameron let out suspiciously. Linus nodded his head in agreement, "that's the first night I ever got to second base." Cameron's face contorted as he looked at Linus, "Okay, man. Let's…" He stopped himself as he turned back to Camille, "why are you asking us this?"  
She tapped her foot as her hands found her hips, "Kirsten, here, has never _been to Prom_." A chuckle escaped Cameron and Linus but their faces turned stone as soon as she narrowed her eyes at them.  
"Really? You never went to Prom?" Linus piped up.  
Kirsten shrugged, "No one ever asked me. I wasn't the most popular girl in high school."  
Cameron's lips slid in to a thin line, "imagine that." he said sarcastically.  
"I just don't see the big deal." Kirsten placed the glass she was holding on to the table and moved past them, out the room.  
  
She glanced at the clock on her phone as she heard the knock on the door. It was almost eleven that night and she felt exhausted. A day full of stitching and having to deal with Camille was enough to leave anyone crawling for their bed. But she pushed past her duvet and got out of bed. The knocking increasing.  
"I'm coming." She said with a deep breath. She swung the door open and Cameron was standing in front of her.  
Only, he was dressed in a suit wearing a masquerade mask.  
"What are you doing?" She asked as he stepped past her over the threshold. In his hands was a plastic container and a small speaker. He walked over to the dining table and set the speaker down, clicking his phone in to place. A soft and slow instrumental tune began playing and he turned to face her.  
"Cameron, what are you doing?" She questioned again, but received no answer. He walked towards her pulling open the plastic container and reaching for her wrist, placing a simple ordained wristlet on her. The red rose glistening soft and smooth against her skin. She sighed as he let her go. The warmth of his fingers leaving her feeling colder than before. He reached in to his suit jacket and pulled out an eye mask. It was similar to his gold and black one, but it was surrounded with lace. Complimentary without being matching. It was perfect. She took it out of his hands and placed it over her own eyes. A smile coming from him as the music changed to something a little more contemporary, but still slow.  
He held out his hand, "dance with me, Stretch?" He asked.  
She grabbed his hand.  
  
_Best prom ever._


	5. First Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camsten

The first time he kissed her, he was completely overtaken. All his years of taking care of his own heart suddenly didn't matter in a second. She was like nothing he had ever experienced before, even after all this time. .

His heart constricted for a moment and he was thankful of his location. Because this may very well be the end of him. He took the opportunity to let a breath escape him as he watched her sleep. The hospital blanket wrapped tightly around her.

He had never felt like this before. Had never felt the complete and utter adoration for a single being before. His father had told him about this kind of love once, but he never really believed it would actually happen to him.

Reaching out to her, he felt like he couldn't tear himself away. She was just everything. He would do whatever it took to keep her safe and make sure that she knew she was loved every single day. He would fight the monsters, and dry her tears. He would cook her breakfast in the mornings and make sure she always had a shoulder to lean on. He would show her the constellations, and guide her through lessons from his favorite scientists. She would meet his parents and they would fall in love with her too. They would fall hopelessly and irrevocably in love with her. Just as he had. When his lips touched her, he felt her soft skin under him. She would wake up and he would look into her brown eyes and the world would become sane again. It would become normal, but with the energy of suddenly that everything had changed.

It sent a spark through him, at the excitement that awaited him. But he just needed her to wake up first. He was ready to take on the world with her. His partner in crime-because the first time he kissed her, he knew that it's what they would become.   
"Hey," she sighed out. It broke his attention away from his thoughts as he looked up at Kirsten.   
"Hey, Stretch…" he smiled back.   
"Are you going to stop staring at her anytime soon?" she asked as she took a seat next to him. Her hospital gown waving around her.   
Cameron sighed. A long, breathy sigh as he stared down at his daughter. Her sleeping eyes still tightly closed as she dreamed of the world. He took his wife's hand.   
"Probably not."

 


	6. Baking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Camsten

What hit her first was the cinnamon. The scent of it swept her up, hugging her as soon as the warmth of the apartment settled on to her cold face. The cinnamon mixing with a feeling of comfort and warmth that felt so foreign to her. She pulled off the chunky scarf that had been wrapped around her neck and hung it next to his door. The cinnamon beginning to settle in to her nostrils so that the scent wasn't as strong as before. Her watering eyes now drying up as she unbuttoned her coat. October in L.A. was usually not terrible. Usually. This morning when she had woken up, the chill that hung over her never seemed to have left. Camille had noticed first. Had requested that her roommate go take a shower. But it didn't even seem that the warm, soothing water could do much for her. When she came out of the bathroom, Camille was hanging up the phone. "Cameron called me…" her eyebrows shot up in the air.   
Kirsten sighed. She wasn't really up for stitching today. It was cold. It was really cold. It stuck to her, like a film that even the shower couldn't scrub away.

It was like Camille could read her mind because the next thing she knew her roommates hand was resting on her shoulder, "you weren't picking up your phone so he called me. There's no stitching today. But, would you like me to take you over to the apartment? I have some errands to run anyway."   
Exhaust hit her despite only having woken up a few hours ago.   
"Yes, please."  
  
"Hey Pumpkin," he said, appearing around the corner. His apron looking worse for wear, splashed with bright orange. She smiled as she went to pull off her coat. The brief chill, despite his warm apartment, forced her to instead; close it tighter. He noticed and his eyebrow rose, "you okay, Stretch?" He asked, wiping his hands on the front of his apron. Walking over to her.  
"I'm just, cold today. It's not a big deal." Her eyes rolled and she saw the concern wipe over his face.   
"Kitchen, now." He pointed. With a quick nod she took a step forward until she felt his hand on her arm, turning her around.   
"Uh uh…" he said, shaking his head, "no coat, no boots," his finger pointing downward. She huffed. Dropping the coat right there where she was standing. It hit the floor with a swish and she slipped out of the boots, knowing it would bug him. She turned on her heel and made her way to his kitchen.

She saw him disappear for a few seconds before he appeared again from his bedroom. He was holding a plaid throw blanket and as she slipped on to the stool at the kitchen island, she felt it slide over her shoulders.   
"Better?" He asked, his fingers gliding over the exposed skin on the back of her neck. It sent a different kind of shiver down her back.   
"Yes, thank you."   
He smiled, returning to the opposite side of the island. That's when her attention was diverted to the mess in front of her.   
"Cameron…" she trailed off. His green eyes shot up from the slice of orange he was cutting through. "It looks like you murdered a pumpkin…"  
A chuckle left him as he surveyed the scene. A scattered mess in the normally tidy apartment. Pumpkin shards mixed in with browned over apple cores. Honey and flour splashed on the top of the counter. And the cinnamon, the smell that hit her when she first came in, was sitting in a bowl. The sticks looking like little twigs as he bustled around everything. "I made an apple pie today." He said, sighing back at the oven, where a pie pan rested on top. "And then I made pumpkin pecan muffins…" He pointed over to the muffins on the cooling rack, "and then I made a pear tart…" his lips drew in a thin line as his eyes darted over by the sink, where a glass pan sat, "then I made an apple cobbler." He sighed as he pointed towards the baking oven. "Now…" he pointed down, "pumpkin pie."  
"You've been...busy…" Kirsten's eyebrows rose. She saw him take a bite of the muffin he had made. It made her stomach growl, realizing she hadn't eaten yet that morning. She pulled the blanket closer, the warmth finally reaching her bones. She could smell him on the throw, his cologne mixing with the natural scent that her nose was all too familiar with by now.

His shoulders shrugged, "I didn't sleep well last night. I was up pretty earlier this morning." He continued to cut in to the orange. She cocked her head to the side, "do you want to talk about it?"  
He blew air through his nose and his eyes broke from her to continue it's cutting, "you want to talk about why I'm not sleeping? What are you, my therapist now?" He smiled, her words echoing out of his mouth.   
She pulled the blanket tighter to her and watched him in silence for several minutes. He didn't seem to mind the peaceful break in conversation, because he went on as if she weren't even there. Cutting the last bit of orange and mixing it in with the pumpkin batter. The citrus breaking up the strong cinnamon that still sat in the air. She shivered, as he bent down to put the pie in the oven. He must have spotted her on his way up because he was next to her in a moments notice. His hands rubbing down the front of his checkered apron once more.   
"Stretch, are you getting sick?" He asked, bringing the back of his hand up to her forehead, "you don't feel warm…"

He was cut short when he felt her pull herself of the stool, smashing her body in to him. Their lips colliding. The surprise hitting him like the cinnamon had for her earlier.   
He _was_ warm. His lips leaving a trailing taste of pecan from one of the muffins. She broke through his lips to touch his tongue and he returned the favor. Her hands dropped the throw blanket and she reached up over his shoulders to lock her fingers together against the back of his neck as she felt his hands grip her hips, pulling her closer in to him.

The blush hit her cheeks before she realized what she had done. But her chest was now against his and she could feel his heartbeat. The same heart that stopped for her. She could smell the cinnamon, and pumpkin, and spice. This was the warmest she had felt all day and it was hard to pull away.

When she did, oxygen filled her desperate lungs. She looked up at him. His green eyes wide, his mouth gaping. He ran a hand through his messy hair as a sigh escaped him. The reality of what just happened hitting him. "Uh, Pumpkin, what was that?"

She looked down at the throw, realizing the coldness was a thing of the past, before she looked back up at him. A smile crossed her warming cheeks as the comfort of his apartment wrapped around her. "I really wanted to taste that muffin." 


End file.
